


[Off Air]

by BlackBlood1872



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, During Canon, Episode: e085 All You Need Is Love, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Non-binary character, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: e068 The Best Imitation of Myself, Post-Episode: e075 The Ben Arnold Show, Pre-Canon, Teareal (tea cereal), Will add tags as they show up - Freeform, all these tags are out of order i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBlood1872/pseuds/BlackBlood1872
Summary: Moments in the town of King Falls[a bunch of mostly unconnected short stories or drabbles set in the world of King Falls AM. Some have already been posted on my Tumblr, most of them haven’t.will update the tags as I add chapters]





	1. if it's real, if it's true

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting this show off with the fluffy piece I wrote almost immediately after listening to episode 85. Cross-posted on Tumblr [here](https://blackblood1872.tumblr.com/post/184578679310).  
> Title is a line from Calum Scott's [If Our Love Is Wrong](https://youtu.be/gegW-vR_UHo)

Sammy freezes at the first sound of the new tape. That's—

“Jack,” Sammy croaks, and then nothing else. His throat is suspiciously clogged and his eyes feel hot—it’s been so, _so_ long since he’s heard this voice.

He remembers this speech, this day. The three of them were sitting around their small recording table, one microphone between them. Close enough that all their legs touched—Jack’s pressed solidly against his in their tiny, secretive act of affection. Lily was close too, but that touch was lighter, more like a proper accidental touch between friends.

Jack looked at him the whole speech, eyes shining and a light, nervous grin on his lips. His hand rested on the table, bare millimeters away from Sammy’s. The slightest movement from either of them and they’d touch, could hold each others hands like they so desperately wanted but _couldn’t_ —for reasons that seemed more and more meaningless as Jack spoke on.

Sammy wanted to reach out. His fingers twitched. But he… he could see other reporters through the little window and knew they could see him and—he couldn’t. He couldn’t take that step.

Jack grinned a bit wider, lopsided in that terribly endearing way of his, and Sammy knew he understood.

Still—holding hands wasn’t the only option they had right now.

Sammy shifted his leg, and hooked his foot around Jack’s ankle, and Jack’s smile turned just a little more dopey. And Sammy—it didn’t matter who could see them. He smiled back, heart warm and knowing his expression gave all of his feelings away.

But it was okay, in that one little moment. After all… love should never get anyone in trouble.


	2. have you ever seen the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 75 AU - What if Sammy's plan had worked?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where Sammy was able to enter the Void in episode 75  
> Cross posted on Tumblr [here](https://blackblood1872.tumblr.com/post/184801543765)

Sammy never shows up.

Ben and the rest of them run through an entire show – a whole four hours worth of the hopeful Sammy and Ben Show. It turns out to be the just Ben Arnold Show, just like Merv advertised.

Ben feels frantic. He’s shaking. It’s like he’s back in college and just slammed five energy drinks after an all-nighter in the hopes of making it through another 8 hours of lectures. Emily is a calm pillar beside him, the one thing keeping him from flying off the walls or bursting out the auditorium doors and racing through the streets searching for his best friend. But even she's affected by his absence, and none of them can stop looking at the doors.

Sammy never showed up. And Ben doesn’t know where he is.

“He said he’d be here,” Ben repeats, for the who-knows-th time. It’s the only thing he can think. He said he'd come. Sammy wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Sammy can’t be gone. But he didn’t show up.

“Maybe he just—” Troy starts but doesn’t continue. There are no excuses. Sammy wouldn’t have slept through this. He wouldn’t have forgotten.

Ben’s pulse pounds in his ears and his gut squirms with dark possibilities—but he can’t think about that. He can’t handle what sort of rabbit hole he might fall into if he takes a moment to _think_ about what Sammy might have done.

He said he’d be here. He wouldn’t lie. He wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t have _left_.

“Please tell me he didn’t _leave_ ,” Ben chokes out.

Emily tugs him into her arms and he shakes and forces himself not to cry. He doesn’t know. It’s just a theory—an awful thought that burrowed into his brain and isn’t getting out but there’s no _proof_. He won’t cry unless there’s proof.

Worst case—Sammy's on the road back to California. That’s it. There’s no case worse than that. Ben won’t let himself think of it.

…but Sammy didn’t show up. And Ben doesn’t know _where he is_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continues in chapter 5


	3. maybe what i miss most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A possible scene set immediately after the events of episode 68 (slight AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the "slight AU" comes from the fact that Sammy doesn't leave and vanish somewhere like it's implied he does in the actual episode. in this, he and Ben leave the station at the same time  
> Cross posted on Tumblr [here](https://blackblood1872.tumblr.com/post/180394887630)  
> Title from Calum Scott's [What I Miss Most](https://youtu.be/oCXnmzJEf8U) (it's what I was listening to when I started making this chapter and since this doesn't actually have a title... it works)

“Tell me about him?” Ben asks quietly as they exit the station. Sammy trips over nothing and has to take a few quick steps to keep his balance. He looks at Ben with wide eyes – like a deer, Ben thinks. He tries to smile reassuringly but their emotional conversation is still so fresh in his mind and it drags at the corners of his mouth. Sammy swallows and glances away, brow scrunched up.

“I… I don’t know, Ben,” he says, finally. His voice is ragged and low, cracks so much more audible than they ever were before. 

“You’ve been keeping this all in for three years,” Ben says, sadness seeping into his tone, gut churning at the very thought. If he’d kept all his emotions in after Emily was abducted… Ben doesn’t know how he could have survived.

He doesn’t know if  _Sammy_ has survived it.

Sammy glances at him with those shadowed eyes of his, bags visible in the light of sunrise, deep and dark. Ben aches for him.

“Come on,” he says, reaching out to rest a hand on Sammy’s arm. “Let’s go to mine. I’ll make you breakfast, coffee, whatever – and you can tell me something about this guy that’s made such an impact on your life.” Ben aims a grin at his friend. Sammy stares at his hand for a moment, then looks up at Ben with something like  _life_ returning to his eyes.

“I… okay. Yeah, that… That sounds good,” he agrees, lips twitching. It’s almost a smile, and Ben counts it as a win.


	4. a light where there is dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy introduces the term 'non-binary pals' to the show, and so many people appreciate it. Including someone close to his heart.  
> (Future AU set after they get Jack back)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple weeks after episode 84, I had the sudden thought that maybe Jack is non-binary and that's why Sammy was so nervous about including 'non-binary pals' in his caller speech. Testing the waters with Ben and everyone else before he reveals anything else, just in case it doesn't go over very well.  
> So then I started writing this! Enjoy some fluff!  
> Title from Jillette Johnson's [Cameron](https://youtu.be/5uQP7Fgk5T0)

He’s only half listening to the show as he drifts through the apartment, so it catches him completely off guard when Sammy starts into his Caller Speech and it’s _different_.

“Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals, you’ve heard our story, now let’s—”

_Non-binary pals._

It’s like a jolt of lightning through his system and Jack stumbles.

He almost forgets how to work his phone when he gets to it, and only manages to sent a short text to Sammy (“Hotline”) before he’s calling in.

“Well folks, looks like the phone lines are all lit up—uh, hold on—” Sammy pauses for a bare second and then Jack can hear the hotline ring over the radio. He turns the dial down before they can pick up, to prevent any static interference (nobody needs to hear any more of that).

The line clicks through. “You’re live on the Sammy and Ben Show—”

“Do you know how much I fucking love you?”

Ben only barely manages to bleep the curse and his scandalized “Language!” is lost under the sound of Sammy’s laughter.

“Hey Jack,” Sammy says around a chuckle. His face softens and he says quietly, “I love you too. What brought this on?”

“'Non-binary pals', Sammy?” Jack asks, and his voice is bright with joy. Ben has the pleasure of seeing Sammy’s face turn bright red before he ducks to hide under his hair.

“It matters,” is all Sammy says.

“Well, _thank you_. I didn’t—I didn’t expect to hear it. I really appreciate it. And I’m sure a lot of other people do too!”

“Wait,” Ben cuts in, “Jack, are you—are you, uh—”

“I’m enby, yeah,” Jack confirms with an ease that Sammy never could understand.

Ben mouths “enby” to himself until his eyes light up. “Oh! Like the initials of it, N.B., okay, I gotcha, cool, cool.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “Hey. Thanks for telling me—uh, telling _us_ , I guess, since we’re live on the air right now,” Ben said with an apologetic laugh.

Jack laughs with him. “I’ve never really tried to hide it so I don’t mind if people know. And it’s not—it's not this big awful thing, you know? It’s just… a way of being human. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, or something to avoid talking about. Uh,” he trails off and laughs a little nervously, “Sorry, I don’t want to rant at you. Just. Thanks. For including it.”

“Thanks for calling in,” Sammy tells him. He’s smiling down at the console, eyes soft, and Ben can see him playing with the ring that he's never without these days. “I’m—I'm glad that—well, just. It was good to hear your side of things.”

“I’ll let you get back to your show,” Jack says after a moment that felt too soft for a late night broadcast. “See you at home, Sammy.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Good night, Jack.”

Ben echoes the sentiment, gets one back, and then the line clicks off. “Well folks, that was a great first call of the night! Let’s keep the mood going—does anyone else have some feel good tales to share? We’ll be taking calls until the three o'clock hour—”


	5. it's nothing to cry about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 75 AU - What if Sammy's plan had worked?  
> Part 2: Sammy goes on a hike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of Chapter 2 "have you even seen the rain". Sammy's side of the story.  
> Title from Death Cab for Cutie's [I Will Follow You Into The Dark](https://youtu.be/9FhRQt1vm3A) (which is on the official [Sammy](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ANgS1QeDsBictrJuczg1b) Spotify playlist and it hurts me)

Perdition Wood is like all the other forests he’s ever hiked in. Sammy hasn’t been hiking in years, but he remembers when he used to. This wood isn’t any different than any of the others.

There is a presence to this place, though, a heavy feeling that hangs in the air, that weighs on his shoulders the further he walks. It’s not hard to breathe, and there’s nothing in the air to coat his tongue in unpleasant ways. But that doesn’t stop him from reacting like there is. It feels like there should be all these physical signs that this is an evil place. It should be obvious.

Instead, there’s just a forest, and his own dread. It’s underwhelming.

And then he finds it. There’s no handy sign, no label that proclaims this to be the Devils Doorstep. But it is. Sammy knows it is.

The entrance to the cave sits in dense brush, almost fully concealed by leaves and branches. But the plants don’t cover the entrance; they seem to shy away from the edges, as if repelled by a barrier. Sammy can see into it, can see the first few feet of packed dirt before the rest of the path is shrouded in darkness. There’s no actual door, not that Sammy thought there would be, but there is a downward slant in the ground leading to the cave, and then two roughly carved stone blocks in front of the mouth. They’re incredibly old, covered in moss and entrenched in the ground. Sammy wonders who could have made them. Wonders _why_.

But there are no answers to these questions—not out here. Maybe not even in there. He doesn’t think it’ll matter to him anyway, once he’s inside.

Sammy walks through the silence to the door. The woods have been quiet and empty for minutes, hours, perhaps even the entire time he’s been here. He only notices now because his footsteps are quiet too—the leaves don’t crunch underneath, and the foliage doesn’t rustle as he moves it aside.

He has to duck to enter the cave. But, a few steps in, he finds that he doesn’t have to slouch anymore—that the cave inside is tall enough to allow him. Sammy lifts the flashlight he'd almost forgotten about, sweeping it slowly over the inside of the cave as he continues to take slow steps.

It's small, more a crevasse than a cave. Slightly higher than he is tall, and only three or four feet wide, close enough that he could touch both walls if he reached out. He doesn’t. In front of him, the path stretches farther than his light can reach, no curves or bends or side passages. The only path is forwards, and there is no end in sight.

It’s dark. Of course it is, Sammy thinks; there are no holes in the ceiling to let in light. The only light comes from the entrance, and that fades about a yard into the Door. Sammy’s flashlight gives him some comfort, for a time. But as he walks, the beam weakens, flickers—and dies. He shakes it a few times, hits it, but it doesn’t come back on. He didn’t really expect it to. It doesn’t matter though. The ground is level and he hasn’t bumped into anything yet. He doesn’t need a light to see by.

Light won't guide him to where he’s going.

Sammy doesn’t know how long he’s been walking. It feels like it’s been hours. He’s so tired, his legs ache and his mouth is dryer than he can ever remember, but he can’t stop. He knows that if he stops, that’ll be as far as he gets. He won’t stop until he finds Jack.

He keeps walking.

* * *

The whispers start up eventually. Sammy doesn’t know how long it takes. Too long. Not long enough. It feel like he’s been walking for days by time he hears it, a faint rustling of impossible wind, so terribly loud after that perpetual silence. Under the breeze, he can hear the whispers, indistinct voices talking to and over each other, nothing recognizable about them besides the fact that they _are_ voices. He can’t make out any of the words. He can’t tell if it's hundreds of voices or just one, echoed and layered and distorted like the audio version of a hall of mirrors.

Then, as he gets closer, he hears paper rustling. The soft sound of a baby crying somewhere far away. Laughter, deep and high and low all at once, bouncing around like some horrible parody of the Doppler effect—quiet to start, distant—then closer, behind him, in front, in his ear.

Sammy wants to freeze, to turn tail and _run_ —but he can’t. He has to keep moving. He’s so close.

One step. Two. It feels like he’s trying to walk through water, now; not physically, but there’s something at his ankles that slows his progress, wraps around and tries to hold him back. He presses through, gritting his teeth and stomping forward.

He keeps walking. It keeps getting harder. There’s a resistance in the air, a barrier of some sort that he has to fight through. Has to push against with all his strength. He has to keep going.

Jack is on the other side of this. He must be.

Finally— _finally_ —Sammy breaks through. He stumbles for the first time in hours (days, weeks) and resists the urge to stop, to steady himself. He takes small steps forward, slow steps, but still moving. (If he stops, he'll never find—)

“Oh Sammy,” a voice whispers. Sammy’s breath catches in his throat. He stops, and looks up.

There’s no light in this place, never has been, so it should be impossible to see—and yet, when Sammy lifts his head, he sees _him_ with perfect clarity.

“Jack,” he breathes.

Jack Wright stares back at him and there’s only pain in his eyes.

“Sammy,” he says again, faint and heartbroken and so, _so_ defeated. “What have you done?”


	6. it's a honey of an O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy’s the one who starts making Teareal in-universe. Set during the hiatus (between episodes 75 and 76)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm aware that it's Noah who eats Teareal IRL but Sammy's the health nut in the show and so he'd be the one who creates/starts eating it. and Ben, An Actual Garbage Bear, would be horrified.

Ben gets up and stumbles into the kitchen, still not completely awake. He opens the fridge. Stares blankly. Looks over at Sammy who’s sitting at the little table, hunched over a bowl of cereal.

“There’s no milk,” Ben announces.

“Uh huh,” Sammy mumbles.

“Did you use the last of it?”

“No.”

Ben looks pointedly at the bowl. “Then what are you _eating_?”

Sammy tilts the bowl towards him and Ben sees boring cornflakes in… a reddish liquid? He leans towards it and sniffs.

He recoils. “Is that _cranberry juice_?”

Sammy grunts in agreement and takes another bite. His face scrunches in disapproval and his eyes narrow at the bowl. Like it’s _wronged him_ or something. Which it absolutely has. Ben’s horrified.

Sammy takes another bite and Ben can’t handle this. “Nope. Nuh-uh, that’s disgusting, I’m—I'm going to the store and I’m buying milk and we’re going to eat real food, not this—this _depravity_ of breakfast injustice.”

Sammy eyes him, sleepily amused. “Get some iced tea too,” he says. “Unsweetened. And some O's cereal. We’re out.” He goes back to his disaster of a meal.

Ben backs away from him, still staring, unable to _not_ watch. Like a train wreck. “Sure, yeah, sure, tea and O's, you got it.”

He passes through the kitchen door then bolts out of the apartment.


End file.
